I didn't think so. I don't actually want to fight, but...
[Yeah. He's sure the prism will make him fight.]
Part of me wants to hope that I'll be lucky, like you were. But even that seems like a dream. I haven't exactly been lucky before, so it seems absurd to expect to be lucky now.
I want to be hope that you'll be lucky as well. That you and whoever you face will walk out of there.
[ his fingers tighten around his sketchbook. ]
Maybe what November said was right—maybe combat doesn't have to result in death. Maybe something just has to break.
[ quiet worry, concern. truth is, there wasn't really any good alternative in trial. finding both was a necessity, but they could only vote for one and considering the spread of people... it would be difficult no matter what. ]
[ he pauses a moment and seems to be kind of. searching for something? atsushi can feel it, a sort of fearful kind of mental throwing open of all the cabinets but.
everything is in place. ]
I... feel like I'm me. I think. I could actually think clearly today. Instead of having to worry about suddenly flying off the handle. [ he looks at atsushi a moment and then at the glass before making a few marks on his sketchpad quietly. ] I think... I would like to think that I'm feeling more myself again.
[He nods along with Percy's explanation, listening carefully. It makes sense, both what he feels Percy do and the words he says after. Percy seems pretty well-acquainted with his feelings, which is likely why he can answer that.
Atsushi is quiet for a while after, focusing inward and feeling how his own emotions roll around with him. Anxiety, fear, regret, self-loathing...no, it's all there, and it has been there for so long he doesn't know how it could be any different.]
I...can't tell. If it's 'me' or 'something else'. I don't feel any different than how I always do. It's just- louder, sometimes, I guess. So loud that it shows on the outside instead of being kept on the inside.
[The self-loathing grows a bit more.]
Even during the trial, I couldn't tell it wasn't me. Everything I said and did, it made sense. Like, I logically know I was probably being forced to do it, but it still felt like something I could actually do on my own without being forced.
It's like that... it almost felt like a dream, when I walked through the scene off Chang Geng's murder in the museum. I couldn't quite parse out that this was something terrible, I had done, rather... it seemed like the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
[ he lifts a hand and offers it, palm up to atsushi quietly. he feels the self-loathing, and he reaches out to it quietly with something that understands. that self-loathing... it's a weight you don't just shrug off or wash away. like oil, it clings to every fiber. ]
I wish it were something easier to explain to others. It's... very much something deeply felt. Like there are parts of you that surge over the others, determined to become all that you are.
Yeah. It's like, even if there's probably other ways that could have solved the problem without killing anyone, it felt like what happened had to happen. That it was the way things had to be. It's bad, sure, but like...bad in the way you see something bad in a play and go "oh, that's sad". Like it isn't actually real.
[Maybe that's why Atsushi still doesn't feel as guilty as he has been expecting he would. Knowing himself, he should be a sobbing wreck right now.
But he does take that hand, and with it he welcomes the understanding that Percy has. Someone who has been through it too will know what he means, and that makes it easier to admit to the parts he knows he should be ashamed of.]
...I really don't like myself, Percy. Even before this, even before I came to the Prism, I never liked myself. And I can't explain that to anyone else, because I'm not looking for pity or sadness about it. It's just how I am, and how I'll always be. But to explain what's happening to me right now I have to explain that I already don't like myself, and if I do that then everyone will misunderstand what I'm even trying to say. So...it's easier to say nothing at all, I guess.
[ percy doesn't touch very often. it's limited, restricted, but here in this moment, he doesn't know anything he himself would want more than a solid connection in amongst the sensation of floating in the myriad of parts that make of oneself. he offers him a quiet squeeze. i don't like myself. ]
It's difficult to allow others in close enough to understand that sort of feeling.
[ a quiet pause ]
But the ones that we do, they're incredibly important to us. The ones that you don't think will understand, sometimes will surprise you as well. [ a beat ] The ones we're most uncertain of discussing these parts of ourselves with.
[ he holds for another moment, sketching briefly with one hand, smudging a little with his finger. his attention is here, but he's. thinking. ] And I believe we all understand at this point what was done was not something you could control, or any of us, but... we will find a way. We're getting closer every day.
[ hope is a new emotion for percy, it's something he doesn't really cling to very often, which is why the sensation feels so very foreign and out of place. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Yeah. He's sure the prism will make him fight.]
Part of me wants to hope that I'll be lucky, like you were. But even that seems like a dream. I haven't exactly been lucky before, so it seems absurd to expect to be lucky now.
no subject
[ his fingers tighten around his sketchbook. ]
Maybe what November said was right—maybe combat doesn't have to result in death. Maybe something just has to break.
[ quiet worry, concern. truth is, there wasn't really any good alternative in trial. finding both was a necessity, but they could only vote for one and considering the spread of people... it would be difficult no matter what. ]
no subject
[It's something to hope for, so maybe it will make his remaining hours less terrible.]
...do you still feel weird, even now? Like...you know. The weird feelings.
[Atsushi, trying to describe fragmentation.]
no subject
everything is in place. ]
I... feel like I'm me. I think. I could actually think clearly today. Instead of having to worry about suddenly flying off the handle. [ he looks at atsushi a moment and then at the glass before making a few marks on his sketchpad quietly. ] I think... I would like to think that I'm feeling more myself again.
no subject
Atsushi is quiet for a while after, focusing inward and feeling how his own emotions roll around with him. Anxiety, fear, regret, self-loathing...no, it's all there, and it has been there for so long he doesn't know how it could be any different.]
I...can't tell. If it's 'me' or 'something else'. I don't feel any different than how I always do. It's just- louder, sometimes, I guess. So loud that it shows on the outside instead of being kept on the inside.
[The self-loathing grows a bit more.]
Even during the trial, I couldn't tell it wasn't me. Everything I said and did, it made sense. Like, I logically know I was probably being forced to do it, but it still felt like something I could actually do on my own without being forced.
no subject
It's like that... it almost felt like a dream, when I walked through the scene off Chang Geng's murder in the museum. I couldn't quite parse out that this was something terrible, I had done, rather... it seemed like the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
[ he lifts a hand and offers it, palm up to atsushi quietly. he feels the self-loathing, and he reaches out to it quietly with something that understands. that self-loathing... it's a weight you don't just shrug off or wash away. like oil, it clings to every fiber. ]
I wish it were something easier to explain to others. It's... very much something deeply felt. Like there are parts of you that surge over the others, determined to become all that you are.
[ imbalance is unspoken. ]
no subject
[Maybe that's why Atsushi still doesn't feel as guilty as he has been expecting he would. Knowing himself, he should be a sobbing wreck right now.
But he does take that hand, and with it he welcomes the understanding that Percy has. Someone who has been through it too will know what he means, and that makes it easier to admit to the parts he knows he should be ashamed of.]
...I really don't like myself, Percy. Even before this, even before I came to the Prism, I never liked myself. And I can't explain that to anyone else, because I'm not looking for pity or sadness about it. It's just how I am, and how I'll always be. But to explain what's happening to me right now I have to explain that I already don't like myself, and if I do that then everyone will misunderstand what I'm even trying to say. So...it's easier to say nothing at all, I guess.
no subject
It's difficult to allow others in close enough to understand that sort of feeling.
[ a quiet pause ]
But the ones that we do, they're incredibly important to us. The ones that you don't think will understand, sometimes will surprise you as well. [ a beat ] The ones we're most uncertain of discussing these parts of ourselves with.
[ he holds for another moment, sketching briefly with one hand, smudging a little with his finger. his attention is here, but he's. thinking. ] And I believe we all understand at this point what was done was not something you could control, or any of us, but... we will find a way. We're getting closer every day.
[ hope is a new emotion for percy, it's something he doesn't really cling to very often, which is why the sensation feels so very foreign and out of place. ]